5Sam panted, his side blindingly painful but he ignored it. They were counting on him. He couldn't let them down. So he ran, pushing his limits and pumping his arms to go faster, running alongside the other boy and managing to kick the ball away from him and to his midfielder.
There was a cheer from his teammates as they took the ball down to their opponent's goal, last few seconds on the clock, kicking, shooting, buzzer- score!
Sam let out a breath, sagging over in relief, hands on his knees to hold himself up. His teammates came up to him, slinging arms over his shoulders and cheering. Sam could only grin, a cough building inside him from his irritated ribs, but he held it back and did his best to join in the celebration with his team.
They lined up to shake the other teams' hands, a few of them glaring at Sam. But he couldn't care about moody teenage boys bitter about losing the second game of the season; though this match was much closer than their first game.
Making his way back to where his bag and drink were resting, dodging excited boys who would jerk his ribs, the faint calling for his name broke through his mind. He blinked, looking up to the bleachers and seeing a small group smiling at him. He blinked again because... why were they there?
A hesitant, disbelieving smile spread across his face as he walked over, Dean looking like he was about to hop the fence to get to him. "Hey, what are you guys doing here?"
"Jo told us there was a game today," Ellen replied, a fond smile on her face but a disapproving look in her eyes. "We thought you'd be a little upset that you couldn't play, since you have a cracked rib and all, so we wanted to come make sure you were okay. Imagine our surprise when you were in the starting lineup and stayed for the whole game."
He gave a sheepish grin, shrugging his shoulders up. "They needed me..."
"Uh huh."
Dean, who had made little effort to conceal his excitement, decided he'd had enough and reached over the fence to ruffle Sam's hair. "C'mon, get your stuff. We're going out for pizza to celebrate your big win."
Sam's grin turned much brighter, nodding excitedly as he grabbed his bag and drink and joined the group on the other side of the fence, completely oblivious to the ringing phone in his bag.
XxX
The group entered into the Roadhouse as a whole, stumbling over themselves as they laughed and playfully shoved and Dean's arm was over Sam's shoulder and Jo was leaning against his side and Mary had a hand in his hair and Ellen was trying to break free from Dean's other arm and Sam was happy. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so happy, he didn't think he'd ever been.
Ellen managed to break free of Dean just as the bar phone started ringing, though that gave Dean a free hand to mess up Sam's hair that Mary had just spent trying to calm down. The four of them started to go to one of the tables, to sit and continue talking and joking, but Ellen's raised voice froze them all.
"Damnit, John, calm your ass down!"
Sam's eyebrows pushed together in concern, why would Dad be calling the Roadhouse? Was he in trouble? He never called Ellen unless-
Back stiffening, Sam hurriedly pulled his bag open and dug around the mess for his phone, flipping it open and- fifteen missed calls... He was dead. He was so dead. Especially if Dad had called him more than once, that meant it wasn't just a check in call. He needed something and needed it enough to call him fifteen times as well as the Roadhouse.
He met eyes with Ellen, giving her a small nod as she sighed. "Yeah, he's right here. Hold on."
Sam felt his body move to the phone, but it was like he wasn't in control of it. If he could, he'd have run in the other direction, desperately trying to get back to the happiness he felt not three minutes ago.
Ellen put her hand on his shoulder and gave a firm squeeze of support. He was vaguely aware of Dean trailing him to sit at the bar.
He took a deep breath before lifting the phone to his ear. "Yes?"
"Where have you been? What's the point in giving you a phone if you don't even answer the damn thing?"
"I-I'm sorry, sir. I was at a game, I couldn't answer it."
It was quiet for a moment, a rush of air leaving John's lungs and making an almost static sound over the phone. "You're not there to play games, Sam. Don't let this happen again or so help me you'll never spend another night there."
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry."
"Good. Now I need you to research something for me, use those fancy computers that hippie has. The demon I was tracking got away, but it led me to Bedford, Pennsylvania where people have been going to the local hiking trails and disappearing, only to turn up dead a few days later completely drained of blood and with a crushed skull. It's not a vampire, the locals are calling it a Redcap. Find out what it is, how it hunts, and how to kill it. And when I call you again, you better answer your damn phone."
"Yes, si-" The dial tone buzzed in his ear, Sam flinched but let out a sigh and placed it back on the receiver.
"You okay?" Dean asked, worry written all over his face. Staring at him, Sam was painfully reminded that this wasn't his life. That he couldn't have this happiness. That he couldn't have family. Blood relatives, that's all they were, all they could be. The time he spent with Dean and Mary made him forget his place, but leave it to John to remind him.
"Fine." He held himself high, shoving his emotions down into a pit deep within himself, locking them away. He couldn't deal with them right now. "I have work to do."
He ignored the eyes on him as he made his way to Ash's room, not looking at any of them lest he forget his place again at the emotions in their eyes.
He should have let Dad leave him in a backwater motel.
XxX
Sam spent the rest of the day holed up in Ash's room, eyes trained on the computers and ignoring the world around him. At some point, everyone had come in to try and get him to talk to them, but a quick and concise "I have work to do" always blocked them out and sent them away.
He almost felt bad, especially when Mary made her appearance to try and offer help. She just wanted to get to know him, care for him in a way that a mother should. But the monster that attacked them made sure that would never happen. Because soon Sam would be back on the road with his dad and he'd never see his mom or Dean for another five years. Mom and Dean would be their happy little family of two, forgetting about Sam as soon as he was gone. Making him think they cared about him while he was around but then never thinking twice of him afterwards.
He had to shut his feelings down about them, before he got attached. He could feel the bonds starting to form with them, tying around his heart like a noose. If he didn't cut it now, then it would destroy him when he left. He had to be strong, he had to be cold. Emotions got you killed in the hunting world.
"Dude."
Sam nearly jumped out of his skin, his knee hitting the desk and sending a sharp pain up his leg. Gripping the injury tightly and drawing in a shaky breath, he turned to see Ash and Dean standing at the door.
"Sorry," Ash chuckled, moving into the room more. "Didn't mean to scare you, little man."
"It's fine." He turned back to the screen, trying his best to ignore Dean's worry.
"You've been at this for a while," Dean's voice cut through, his footsteps bringing him right behind Sam. "Find anything interesting?"
Sam debated if he should tell them. If he did, then it would leave him open for conversation, but if he didn't, then Ash and Dean would probably drag him out of the room. He let out a sigh, "Yeah. Redcaps are some form of goblin, they come from Border folklore. If anyone goes into their territory, they throw large rocks at them until they die, then dip their hats in the victim's blood. There's... not a lot about them really, nor any ways to kill them. But I have a few theories... I wish I had access to Uncle Bobby's library though, that would make all this so much easier."
"Well, you gotta make due with us." Dean's hand went to Sam's hair, but he swatted the hand away. Dean didn't seem to care. "C'mon, fire those theories away, let's brainstorm."
"Thanks but I'm good."
"Sam, my dude," A pillow from Ash's bed was thrown at his head, "let us help you out. You know what your dad's like when you don't have exactly what he wants."
Sam sent him a look and threw the pillow back at him with a tad more force than necessary, but Ash just laughed at him. "Fine, but you gotta be serious about this."
"Sammy," Dean slapped his shoulder, "We are the epitome of seriousness." Even as he was saying it, a laugh forced its way out of both of them, causing Sam to roll his eyes and turn back to the screen, forcing down the feeling of warmth at his nickname. He'd have to put a stop to it soon. Soon... just not now.
"Okay, so get this, the Redcap that Dad is hunting is killing people almost on a weekly basis. Bodies just show up randomly in the woods, completely drained of blood. Since there isn't much on the lore, but monsters work by rules and instincts, there's a reason for all that blood, a reason for them dipping their hats into it."
"You think its hat is the weakness?" Dean asked, eyebrows pushing together to try to understand.
"Possibly," Sam nodded. "Get the hat off it, maybe it'll be immobilized or something? I also think there might be something about all that blood though. It's like it keeps a steady flow of it, but I don't think the Redcap is drinking it... There has to be something deeper to it than just dye for the hats."
"Maybe it's like a source for its power?" Ash motioned for the computer, Sam hurrying out of his way.
"That might not be too far off," Dean leaned against the back of Ash's chair, staring at the screen. "Last year Mom and I fought this weird Japanese thing that was drowning children. It had this water bowl thing on its head, and the only way to kill it was by emptying the water from it. Little freaks also loved cucumbers..."
Sam's thoughts spun with the information, pulling through years of lore and mythology for tactics that might help them. "So... Draining the blood pool, if it's still there, could have the same effect. But how do you drain a blood pool that most likely isn't being held by something special like a cup or bucket? I doubt the blood will by held by anything more than just an indention in the ground... Maybe in a cave so it won't soak into the dirt. It would make sense, it would also keep the sun from drying it out too."
"Not to mention," Dean shrugged, "perfect place to hide the victims for a few days while they drain."
"Yeah..." Sam swallowed, trying not to picture the broken body of innocent people as these monsters bled them dry in a dirty cave in the woods. How scared they all must have been... "Yeah, now we just need to find a way to get rid of the blood. If we could find a way to trap it, keep it from hurting people, then it would dry up on its own, probably a week if the scheduling is to be believed. But Dad is going to want something sooner than that. Ash, what kind of chemicals-"
Sam's phone on the desk started ringing, all three pairs of eyes drawing to it. Sam shared a look with Ash who nodding in understanding as he opened a new search. Sam took a breath before answering the phone.
"Dad-"
"Sam, I need a solution now!"
Eyebrows pushed together in confusion, eyes darting in the space in front of him trying to understand. His dad was panting, out of breath. Running? Why was he running- "You went into the Redcap's territory, didn't you? It's chasing you now?"
"Another hiker went missing! There's no indication where the territory is! Give me a way to stop these bastards!"
The Redcap was after his dad, it was hunting his dad. These bastards? There was more than one? Of course, just because they were territorial didn't mean that they were loners, it just meant they didn't like humans or other species. His dad was running from a group... His dad was alone and running from a group. No, no feelings. Feelings gets you killed. Sam had to think, had to help. "We think there's a cave that they take their victims to, probably in the center of the territory. It'll have a pool of blood in it, that's probably the way to kill them. Get rid of the blood, get rid of them."
A burning pain started blooming inside Sam's head, throbbing just behind his eyes. Not now... Not in front of Dean and Ash...
He sat on the edge of Ash's bed, leaning over himself and closing his eyes, his free hand going to rub his head. He could hear his dad yelling over the phone, Dean's concerned questions for him, Ash calling out from the computer, but it all sounded so far away. Images started flashing in his head, burning harshly against his brain. He felt himself flinch, a disconnected yelp of pain leaving his mouth, but he pushed through it.
"A river, do you see a river anywhere?" He asked, his voice strained. "The river will lead to this old oak tree, from there head North and it'll take you to the cave."
"Sam-"
"Just trust me! I spent the last five hours looking this up, I know what I'm talking about!"
An acknowledging grunt came from John, and over the sound of his own ragged breathing and the blood pumping through his ears, he could hear the angry yelling of the Redcaps on the other end of the phone. If his dad went into that cave there was a great chance that he would die there... He just sent his dad to his death...! A group was tricky enough to deal with when they were together, but Dad was by himself now.
No, he couldn't let Dad get killed. He had to think. Think, think, think...!
Another sharp pain shot through his head, a cry leaving him as he hunched in on himself more. He could see the cave, the Redcaps just on the inside of it, angry and bloody, fangs and claws and beady black eyes. Black eyes... They were trapped. Shouting and toeing a line that he couldn't see. Black eyes.
"Pastor Jim!" He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, "You were tracking the demon with Pastor Jim, right? He can't be too far away, call him back. You can trap them in the cave and the blood will dry up that way. You can't go in there by yourself, they'll kill you."
"I can do it-"
"No, no, you don't get it! Redcaps are related to goblins, and goblins came from demons...! The first goblin wasn't even a goblin, it was just the name of the demon that had control of a town in Normandy. Latin exorcisms won't work on them, they aren't possessing anything, but scriptures and crucifixes will. You need Pastor Jim there to inlay scriptures into the cave and ground, and he needs you to distract them and herd them in. It's a team job, dad. You need him."
Harsh breathing was his only response for a minute, Sam worried he would be chastised for taking a tone. But after another long stretch of silence, he heard what could have passed as a sigh if he wasn't running.
"Alright. I'll call Jim and we'll take care of this tomorrow. You had better be right about this."
"I am."
The call ended with a click, the worry and anxiety still heavy in his chest because John was still running from those things. He hadn't escaped them, there was still a chance that he could be caught. They could go ahead, cut him off, crush his head with a rock. He'd never know. His dad could die and he'd never know. Dragged off to a cave, neck slit to drain him, blood filling the ground and little monsters practically bathing in it-
He clamped a hand over his mouth and bolted from Ash's room to the bathroom, not even able to kick the door closed behind him before he dropped to his knees and emptied his stomach into the toilet. What would he do without his dad? He was mean, sure, but Sam needed him. Sam needed him and he needed Sam. He couldn't lose his dad.
"Sammy..." A gentle voice murmured, a hand going to his back and rubbing soft circles. "It's okay, shh, it's going to be alright. Dad, I don't know him like you do, but I've heard he's strong. He'll make it through this, you told him what he needs to know to stop them."
The gagging of stomach acid in his throat soon turned to sobs, mixing with a deep panic inside him because he wasn't there with Dad. He couldn't help him. He could just give him information and hope that it was right. What if it wasn't right? What if he got Pastor Jim killed too? They would die and it would be his fault. He should have known better, should have tried harder, relied more on knowledge than the dumb-
"Sam...?" Another voice called from somewhere behind him. His stomach twisted again and he leaned over the toilet with another heave. "What happened?"
Another set of hands were on his back now, softer and smaller than Dean's. Mom. If Dad died, would they take him? Would they let him into their little family of two knowing how he had gotten Dad killed? And Dean had seen him earlier...! So they would know what a freak he was too...!
"Dad was getting chased by the Redcaps he was hunting," Dean spoke, his worry clear in his voice. "There was no way to stop them today so he's having to outrun them and get away until he can get Pastor Jim in there tomorrow to help trap them in their cave. But he hung up before he got away, I guess, and Sam..."
"Oh honey..." Soft hands brushed his hair away from his face. "Sam, John and I may not see eye-to-eye on a lot of things, but he's the best hunter I know. He's going to survive, if just to make it back to you."
Sam shook his head, a hot tear rolling down his nose. He opened his eyes, intending to argue with her, insist that they didn't understand, he was the reason dad would die; but bright red caught his eye. His nose was bleeding, dripping down his chin and into the toilet. He sucked in a breath, head rearing back and nearly colliding with his mom and Dean. His nose was bleeding. His nose only bled when he-
"Whoa, hey-" Dean sucked in a breath as well, grabbing Sam's chin and turning him to face Dean. "Sam, what the hell, your nose is bleeding."
No.
Mary moved to his side, a wad of toilet paper in her hand as she dabbed it at his nose. "What caused this, honey?"
Please no.
Dean turned in his crouch, reaching for the sink. There was a silver knife under there, more than capable of killing him in the hands of a skilled hunter like Dean.
"No...!" He choked out, pushing himself up and shoving past them, running down the hall to his room and slamming the door shut. He barely thought it before the dresser was sliding across the floor and blocking the door shut. Another sob left him as he stumbled back, falling over and scooting into the corner of his dark room. He could hear the others on the outside; Dean and Mary and Ellen and Jo, all wondering if he was okay and Dean was trying to get in and there were so many voices all overlapping and talking and his head was starting to hurt again and no, please, not another vision...!
His hands clamped over his ears, eyes squeezing shut, a Bon Jovi song building in him - starting with a quiet hum before going into whispered lyrics.
The world faded around him, all his stress blocked and guarded against by the song in his head.
He was asleep before he even finished the second chorus.
XxX
When Sam woke up, it was to a soft knocking at his door. He lifted his head up from his knees, neck sore and body aching. His eyes burned and felt dry, eyelids not sliding across as smoothly as they should.
The knock sounded again, slightly louder, and as much as Sam wanted to hide away from the world after last night's epic meltdown, he knew he'd be harassed until he let them know he was okay.
With a sigh, he picked himself up from the floor and moved to the dresser, hesitating for a moment before grabbing it and pushing it back to where it belonged. He scrubbed a hand down his face before opening the door, unsurprised to see Dean there.
He couldn't meet his eyes as he opened his mouth to let him know he was okay, but Dean beat him to it.
"You left your phone in Ash's room last night." The silver flip phone was held out to him, Sam scrambling to grab it and check- "Dad called this morning; he said to let you know that what you said worked. Pastor Jim got there early this morning and the Redcaps are currently trapped inside their cave. Neither of them got hurt, but dad says he's going to stay and keep watch for another week or so."
Sam sagged against the doorframe, phone clutched to his chest. Dad was alive- His eyes snapped up to Dean, wide. "You answered the phone? So he knows...?"
"That Mom and I are here? Yeah... he knows."
"And he's still going to watch the cave for another week?"
Dean gave a snort, nodding along. "Yeah, those Redcaps must have been scarier than we thought."
Sam couldn't help the laugh that broke free, it wasn't even that funny. But after having stressed over last night so much, and then his dad knowing that Dean and Mary were there, he felt nearly hysterical. And it must have shown on his face because Dean's smile became much more confused, but still held a bit of amusement at seeing his brother laughing. And just like all the worst things, it was contagious; soon Dean laughing along with him, though not as crazy.
"Man," Sam panted, wiping at his eyes with the palm of his hand and an arm wrapped protectively around his middle, "I would have sworn he'd have saw you and Mom as more of a threat than the Redcaps, coming to brainwash me into being soft or something."
"Well, guess some little gremlin-looking things that barely reach our knees were more threatening than us." Dean's eyes flickered to his knees, smirk growing, "Or... my knees anyway, you're pretty short."
Sam reached out and shoved his arm, "Shut up, jerk."
"Make me, bitch." The words had slipped out so easily, a natural response on Dean's part. Sam could see the pause in his thoughts afterward, probably wondering if he had overstepped, if they were close enough for bantering like that. Sam briefly wondered that too, but it was overshadowed by a deep longing he had long since buried being fulfilled.
No matter where Sam had gone, he had always seen brothers. At school in the same class, or passing in the halls, or an older brother dropping off the younger, at stores and diners and restaurants, and all of them had a banter. Borderline abusive, always mean, but there was a kindness to them that Sam couldn't understand. He wanted to, he longed to understand that type of bond, but he never could, so he pushed that feeling deep down, buried it beneath his father's training.
But it all suddenly made sense to him. Felt real. He had an older brother.
Seeing Sam's smile go impossibly wider, Dean took it as the sign that name calling was okay and nudged his arm, stepping to the side a bit. "Ellen, Jo, and Mom went to town to stock up on a few things for the bar, I don't know where Ash is and something tells me I don't want to, and you slept through breakfast and I could hear your stomach growling from down the hall. So, I'm offering this once in a lifetime opportunity, and all you have to do is say yes. Do you want pancakes?"
Half an hour later found Sam and Dean covered in flour and pancake batter, the counter around them equally as messy. Sam had doubted the large portions of ingredients Dean had used, but was thankful now or there'd have been nothing left for them to eat. It was almost as if he had known this would happen.
But as Sam and Dean sat on the floor of the kitchen, two plates stacked high with fluffy pancakes, Sam couldn't have felt happier.
"Ellen's probably going to kill you for messing up her kitchen, you know that, right?" Sam asked, pouring unhealthy amounts of syrup onto his pile.
"Yeah, probably." Dean grinned at him, leaning against the counter and snatching the syrup bottle from him the moment it was right side up. "But I'm dragging you down with me. You're the one that turned the beater on high."
"You told me to!"
"You still did it."
Sam sent him a glare with no real heat to it as he cut into his mountain of sugar, stuffing a forkful into his mouth. It took great restraint not to close his eyes and bask in the taste, it had to be the best pancakes he'd ever had in his entire life. He wouldn't outright say that though, it would make Dean's ego get even bigger than it already was. But he could compare.
"There's some town in Arkansas off I-40 that has this little diner that looks like it still belongs in the fifties, it's small and really easy to miss. These taste like the pancakes there."
Dean's head snapped to him, eyes brightening. "Lulu's Diner?"
Sam's eyebrows rose in surprise, "You know Lulu's?"
"Hell yeah! They have the best pie in the state! Not half bad pancakes either."
"Dad and I stop there whenever we're in the area," Sam smiled to himself. "Doesn't matter what time it is, he always gets the meatlover's breakfast with two fried eggs and I always get the pancakes. If he's in a good mood, he'll order two chocolate shakes with whipped cream."
Dean took the information in, nodding along as he chewed his pancakes slowly. "That's what Mom and I order. Well, she gets the pancakes and I get the meatlover's. Instead of shakes though, we get pie. Mom loads hers down with whipped cream."
They shared a look, fondness in their eyes. Maybe their family wasn't as separated as they thought.
As they ate, Sam could feel a tension growing though. He knew what was coming from the way that Dean kept sneaking glances at Sam's pants that had a patch of blood from his nose last night when he'd passed out. He couldn't get away from this conversation... and he knew that if it wasn't addressed by the time that Ellen and the others got back, then they'd gang up on him for answers. Best to just get it out of the way now and hope that Dean would let them know he was okay.
"I get migraines." He gave a tight smile when Dean's eyes flashed up to meet his, "They get really bad, especially when I'm under stress. That's what happened last night. Sorry if I freaked you guys out, but I just... I don't like being around people when it's happening."
Understanding passed through Dean's eyes as he nodded, looking forward. So trusting, so accepting that Sam had told him the truth...
"Yeah, I get that. We were pretty worried when you bolted and locked yourself in. But I heard you start humming Bon Jovi and..." He smiled a bit, "I figured we were freaking you out just as much."
Sam didn't answer, just shoved another fork of pancakes in his mouth. Why was he so stupidly understanding?
Dean leaned over and nudged his arm with his elbow, "Hey, if your head's better, after we clean up the kitchen, let's go kick that soccer ball of yours around out back."
A smile spread across Sam's face, all bitter thoughts gone at the idea of playing soccer with his brother.
When Ellen, Jo, and Mary returned two hours later, they were none the wiser to the mess that the kitchen had been, but their noses did crinkle at the sight and smell of Sam and Dean as they came around the back, both boys dripping in sweat but laughing as Dean tried to balance the ball on his head while standing on one leg. They didn't know the reason for it, but it made Sam happy so they just left them to it.
XxX
Sam hated family. He hated it so much. He hated how warm and fuzzy it made him feel, how happy he got from a simple word, or how he could feel years of stress falling off of him with just the right look. He hated the power that it had over him. He hated the bonds it created in him, bonds he couldn't break if he wanted to.
He hated that he was going to lose his family in three days.
His father had called to inform him that his theory had worked and that the Redcaps were dying. He would be coming to get Sam in three days.
He had yet to tell anyone of this news. Mary had made plans with them all to go to the state fair in five days, the day before John was supposed to arrive. He had a soccer game too, an away game where he'd ride on a bus with his team mates to another town and Dean was going to drive the others to go cheer him on and they'd go for pizza after again and he wasn't going to be able to have any of that any more.
But even as he already mourned the loss of his new normal, he couldn't deny the deep longing he had for his dad's return to his life. The strong image he was supposed to mold himself after, his fearless leader, his way of life. He knew how to act around his dad, what his dad expected of him, what each little wrinkle on his face meant. He didn't have that with the people here, he didn't know what they expected of him - he was beginning to think they didn't expect anything. He didn't know what Mary's little smiles meant or Dean's sideways looks. He had been learning them, but it wasn't enough.
A part of him wished for his parents to get back together so that he could have them both.
But that was an impossible dream. His dad was too headstrong, too stubborn; Dean and Mom had already formed their way of hunting and it was not what Dad did.
And Dad didn't trust them.
Why else would he be coming back earlier than he said he would? He never did that unless he didn't like a situation that Sam was in.
So Sam shoved down his feelings and emotions and put a smile on his face and went to school with Jo, he did his school work diligently as if nothing was wrong and studied for a quiz as if he would be there next week to take it, he waited with Jo outside the school for Dean to pick them up and take them back to the Roadhouse, singing along to Dean's favorite cassettes the whole way back.
Mary asked Sam to help her cook dinner for them all while Ellen prepped the bar as the night crowd started to come in, and Dean stayed in the kitchen to talk with them and swipe any food that was left unattended. As Sam was cutting the onions, Jo came in with a scowl and asked for his help with a math problem, and stuck his tongue out at Dean's teasing when it took him less than three minutes to solve and explain it to her.
He played pool with Dean and some other hunters.
He teased Jo about her crush on Dean.
He went outside to talk with Dean under the stars until well after midnight.
He helped Ellen clean the bar.
He said goodbye to Mom and Dean as they left to their motel.
He got ready for bed.
He would repeat it again tomorrow and the next day.
And then he'd be gone.